Chapter Text
PART THREE.
Une vie comme ça n'existe pas.
The consequences of the bridge explosion are almost immediate.
Any and every enforcer that stays alive is taken as hostage; different gangs boast about different numbers of prisoners, which means that if Piltover wanted to take the diplomatic route to get their enforcers back, they’d have to negotiate with different factions.
A boat arrives to the Zaunite shore a day after the fall, carrying a white flag and a message from Piltover: they demand the freedom of the enforcers and the culprits for the bridge attack.
The messenger is bounced around, going from chembaron to chembaron, until it lands at The Last Drop, where Sevika is counting her losses. Everyone considers Sevika the top dog, since the assassination attempt was for her specifically; it’s clear that Piltover fears her and what she might know about the skeletons in their closets.
When the messenger goes on and on about Zaunite and Piltovan unity, about the need to rebuild the bridge and strengthen their relations, everyone at the bar just laughs until they cry.
Zaun is never going back under Piltover’s boot; that much they can be sure of.
Sevika sends back a scathing message, with a gratuitous use of the word fuck.
If they want Zaun and Piltover to have any relationship at all, the councilors themselves better cross that fucking river and beg for their forgiveness.
No more breaking their backs for them. No more letting them pollute their air and water with their factories.
Once they’ve buried their dead, left flowers and gifts to all the Janna altars that keep popping up all over the city after the massacre, the citizens of the undercity set fire to the last remaining factories owned by Piltover.
As they stand together in front of the burning embers, they’re not members of rival gangs, or shimmer addicts who were cast aside after they ruined their lives trying to afford their addiction, or people with lifelong grudges against their neighbors—they’re simply Zaunites, united against a common enemy after enduring a living hell.
The open wounds the undercity has had for many years don’t scar completely that night, but something shifts in their world. The word freedom tastes like candy on their tongues, and they’re willing to do anything to keep savoring it.
When the next boat from Piltover arrives, it carries a blue-haired diplomat who walks through the lanes like she knows them.
Caitlyn Kiramman stands tall in front Sevika, the undercity’s interim leader.
Sevika cocks a brow at the lanky diplomat in front of her.
“I don’t think they understood my petition for them to come here,” she comments, leaning back on her chair.
Her office is cramped up. Her apartment near the center of the city burned up in the massacre, and she had to make do with what she had while holding everything down; she definitely doesn’t look the part of “top dog.”
It doesn't matter. Everyone knows she is.
Kiramman doesn’t flinch under her stern gaze.
“I am the daughter of councilor Cassandra Kiramman, I’ve been given power to authorize or deny whatever you request of Piltover. Do not underestimate me,” she speaks, with a professional voice that leaves no room for emotions.
When Sevika takes too long to reply, Caitlyn taps on the rifle she brought along, cocking a brow in her direction. It’s as much a question as it is a challenge.
Sevika scoffs.
“Then talk business to me, Kiramman.”
The corners of Caitlyn’s mouth curve upwards. That’s what she wanted to hear.
On the other side of the city, more conversations are being had.
The Firelights aren’t at ease in the middle of Anissa’s new residence at a gang’s base, but at least the criminals she commands have enough brains to not cross her.
Aya and Rob were the ones sent to speak to her, to hear what she has to say for herself—Ekko refused to come, he didn’t think it’d be wise to be involved in the conversation, given that he was the reason behind most of her actions.
Or so he thinks, anyway.
Anissa cries in Aya’s arms until she has no more tears left in her body, sobbing about just wanting something to call hers; a home, a person, anything. Something that lasts, that isn’t at constant risk of being ripped away from her.
The irony isn’t lost on either of them, as they exchange worried glances before speaking.
“Nobody was ever going to kick you out,” Rob says, gentle. “But I hope you realize you can’t come back now.”
Anissa freezes, whole body tensing as she looks up at him.
“What? Why—?”
“These people answer to you now,” Aya explains it slowly. Realization dawns on Anissa as a chill runs up and down her spine. “You have to stay here now, you can’t go back to the base.”
There’s a long, heavy silence, that’s only interrupted by the voices coming from outside.
Finn’s corpse is barely cold, his spilled blood still clings to tiny nooks and crannies that are hard to reach with the cleaning supplies.
If she were to be honest, she didn’t predict this happening. Not coming back to the base, not seeing her people again—permanently stuck in a place she didn’t really want.
Silent tears graze her cheeks.
“If you want to look at the positive side,” Rob starts saying, “you could make a change now that you’re at the top of this food-chain. Use your evil powers for good, y’know?”
That gets a chuckle out of her.
“Do you really think I could?” She asks, trying to envision it.
“You practically staged a coup in nine days and were successful at it,” Aya deadpans. “I think you can handle some rowdy criminals.”
Loud laughs echo in the office. Well, she’s not wrong about that.
Finn— Anissa’s men are rough around their edges, most are very simple minded, and it’s very likely they’d just fight each other to death if they didn’t have someone commanding them from above. Some are violent assholes, yes, but with no substantial intelligence to apply that violent spirit in an organized way by themselves.
I could mold them, shape them into what I want them to be and convince them this is what they want.
With that thought, Anissa assumes her new identity, hoping to not fall short at it.
The weeks pass.
Nothing feels real; peace time is a concept something so foreign to Jinx that just the thought of it makes her yawn. Strolling through the lanes feels so different now that the pollution has gone down since tearing down the factories. Most things remain the same, with the shimmer addicts still being a problem, but legend has it the newest batches aren’t as addictive as the originals.
After the massacre, gangs lay low. Most have lost a substantial amount of members, so there’s no more random fights in the middle of the street for a good while. It only adds to Jinx’s boredom.
Sometimes, when she grows too bored, she goes back to her old lair to set off bombs and throw them into the void, just for the hell of it. Of course, that ends the moment Ekko catches wind of it—stupid Vi—and forces her to rest for the sake of the twins.
The day is drawing closer, inching little by little with every second that passes. She’s slowly coming to accept what her new life will all be about, but it doesn’t mean that she’s as excited for it as Ekko seems to be.
Janna, what would she do without Ekko?
He’s the most excited about the twins; his hands are constantly on her belly, he pays her special attention on the little down time he has from his responsibilities, always noticing if she’s uncomfortable or trying to suppress a craving.
It’s not long until they move in together, for the sake of making the actually raising the twins part easier.
The Firelights agree to let him keep building so he can move in with Jinx, and it should take more time for the damn rooms to be ready, but of course they’re like bees, working together in synchrony to have the little excuse of a house ready before Jinx has time to have second thoughts about living with Ekko. Soon, she’s packing up whatever little things she has with her, leaving the room all to Vi, and settling in with Ekko.
She steps inside for the first time, and it hits her how— homely it all looks right in the center of her chest.
Ekko wraps his arms around her waist from behind, his hands coming to rest over her six month belly, and sighs in content against her skin.
“Consider it a fresh start,” he says, with his voice full of dreams for the future. Jinx cranes her neck to meet his gaze, and the unbridled joy in his face makes her blush.
She wanted this. Of course she did; she told him she was ready to move in with him, so why is insecurity peeking its ugly head right at the door?
Get yourself together, she chides herself. This is what you wanted, stop feeling guilty for taking it.
Jinx takes a few strides in, and even though there’s not much to see—yet—, she cracks a smile.
“I can work with this,” she mumbles, more to herself than Ekko, who’s standing close by. “It’ll need a few layers of paint, maybe some more decorations. But it’ll do.” Jinx turns to look at him, already scanning the empty walls, and he gives her a firm nod.
“I’ll get you the paint—later, you’re supposed to be resting,” he points out. Jinx gives a long suffering sigh, more for the theatrics than anything, and climbs on the bed under his scrutinizing gaze.
Her third trimester is fast approaching, and once she’s past the seven months mark, the twins are supposed to be born any day now. Doc Ray said it’s normal for multiple pregnancies to not be carried full-term, and something about it makes her uneasy.
She’s eating. She swears she is. Her bones have more meat to them and her breasts have started producing milk, so she definitely is on her way to being healthy—but it’s not enough. Not nearly.
Doc Ray tried to be gentle about it, but even Jinx could figure it out; her body wasn’t that of a six month pregnant woman. If it meant complications for the twins, she wouldn’t know, but she prayed to Janna that it didn’t.
She settles in with Ekko, the days never stop coming.
At some point or the other, the twins start kicking more firmly, more vigorously. Ekko watches entranced every time their little feet push against his palms, but Jinx has to grind down her teeth and pretend it doesn’t freak her out.
More often than not, she wonders when she will feel that maternal instinct that everyone keeps talking about, that unconditional love that she’s supposed to feel. What Ekko already feels for the twins, ever since he came to know about their existence. She doesn’t dare bring it up, just pretends she agrees with him on that note for the sake of keeping the peace.
When her belly becomes too much of an obstacle to spend her time up and about, fabricating and planning whatever equipment the Firelights need, she decides to spend her time annoying Vi and doing blueprints for things so ridiculous she knows not even Piltover, with all of their hextech, could fabricate.
Vi peeks over her shoulder one day, while they’re sitting outside in the morning sun before Vi has to go off to do her Firelight duties. Jinx is too enraptured trying to finish the blueprint that she doesn’t realize she’s gotten too close.
“That has a lot of potential, y’know,” Vi says, softly, squeezing her sister’s shoulder.
Jinx scoffs. It’s nothing more than a dream, and dreams seldom come true.
“It’s just wishful thinking,” Jinx murmurs, stilling her hand, but Vi just chides her.
“All great ideas started out as that,” she comments, setting a glass of juice down on the little table next to her. “And that one could come in handy if the treaty goes well.”
At that, Jinx throws Vi an incredulous stare.
The peace negotiations were… Stagnant, as far as everyone knew. Piltover didn’t want to let go of Zaun for obvious fucking reasons, and Zaunites refused to keep working for them on any condition. Sevika hadn’t been able to make any progress so far, none that they knew at least—Caitlyn sometimes stopped by to see how everyone was doing, bringing contraband to help them where she could. She didn’t talk much about the developments, because there weren’t any.
Caitlyn was ready to sign away Zaun’s independence and the trading agreement, but the councilors had her threatened to not do that; in the end, they gave her all that power for nothing.
Meanwhile, Zaun still stirred, pushing for liberation. The collapse of the bridge meant a huge hit for all of their incomes, but they were used to surviving in worse conditions. People started sailing further into the sea, finding new sources of livelihood and ways of keeping themselves alive.
The gangs still existed, but now that they didn’t have a way to connect with the rich elites of Piltover for their favors, their businesses had slowed down. Besides, most were still too fatally wounded to inflict that much harm.
Sevika tried to keep the peace among chembarons as much as she could, but even she came to face difficulties.
The dream of a free Zaun was still too far away, but its citizens could almost taste it already, dreaming of the day they would finally free themselves from the last remnants of Piltovan control and declare their independence.
“ If it ever goes through. At the pace is going, the twins won’t see a liberated Zaun either,” Jinx says, ever the positive woman. Vi doesn’t lose the smile, not yet. It seems that ever since they found their way back together she hasn’t stopped smiling.
“Have some faith, Pow-Pow.” She ruffles her hair despite Jinx’s protests, and plops down on the seat next to her to enjoy what remains from the morning sun before it hides again. “You didn’t think we’d see each other again, and look at us now. Anything can happen,” Vi points out.
Something warm stirs in Jinx’s chest.
“I guess so,” she replies, tapping her pen against the blueprint for a water filter to help cleanse the sea around Zaun.
The twins stir inside her, as if giving Vi the reason. She huffs, deciding to ignore their input. They’ll have time to disagree with her for a lifetime.
Instead of paying attention to the twins, she goes back to her morning routine: annoying her sister.
Vi is currently ogling Aya as she does her morning laps, running around the base with laser like focus.
Jinx isn't too sure about what’s going on between her sister and her boyfriend’s ex, but there's something going on, that much she's sure of, if the way Vi sighs like she's sixteen all over again is anything to go by.
She’ll admit, it's nice to see her sister get her youth back. Even if she gets frustrated every time she has the displeasure of hanging out with her and Aya, and her sister loses all higher cognitive abilities.
Jinx doesn't think she’s ever seen a human be as un-smooth as Vi trying to compliment Aya’s new braids.
“You should man up and ask her out,” Jinx says after a moment, feigning nonchalance as she sips her juice.
If Vi were drinking something, she'd sputter it out right about now.
“What are you talking about?” Vi asks, looking the other way. Jinx gives a long suffering sigh.
“Don’t give me that bullshit, I still remember when you had a crush on the girl living across the bar and you’d force me to play with her younger sister so you could have an excuse to talk to her,” Jinx reminds her, laughing loudly when her sister shoves her over the table, cheeks as red as her hair.
“Shut up ! How do you remember that? You were nine!”
“When your sister trips over her own feet in front of the coolest girl in the neighborhood, spills all her fries on the ground and offers said spilled fries to the girl, because, if my memory serves correctly, ‘she looks like she'd enjoy them’, you kinda never forget. It's prime bullying material.”
Vi groans louder than Jinx thought was humanely possible.
“I panicked! She was laughing at me!”
“And so I was I,” Jinx says through hiccups of laughter. Seeing Vi that bothered will never not make her laugh.
Vi’s cheeks stay as red as her hair for a long while.
She doesn't ask Aya out that day, but Jinx gives her an ultimatum until she takes matters into her own hands. Vi doesn't take that seriously, but that's not Jinx’s problem.
The days and weeks don't stop coming and going.
Jinx can’t believe that the twins keep on growing inside her, pushing her organs around to accomodate themselves. Her body is constantly aching with the pain that implicates growing two organisms inside you, unable to sleep at night.
It seems as Ekko has telepathy or some kind of psyquic power, because the asshole always knows when she's trying to not cry in the middle of the night.
She thinks she's so stealthy, shifting until she's giving her back to him so she doesn't cry on his side of the pillow, only for him to reach for her, eyes still closed, rubbing soothing circles on her body.
“They’re giving you shit again?” He usually asks, voice groggy with sleep. Jinx then tries not to cry at how undeserving she still thinks she is of his love.
(It’s gotten better these days; she tries to get it through her thick skull that less deserving people have been loved. That she should stop pushing him away, because now she can risk being vulnerable. Ekko is hers. Finally hers.)
The more her belly grows, though, the more her mobility is restricted and her time runs out.
They’ll be here any day now, and she doesn't feel ready—not when she still can't feel that love everyone keeps talking about. At most she cares about them, wanting them to be healthy and grow up in peace.
Ekko is the lovestruck parent between the two of them. He builds them cribs with his own bare hands when she's past the seven month mark, nailing and hammering away in the damp winter cold.
Jinx watches him from the threshold of their little home, sitting down in a rocking chair. She feels like a fucking grandma, but the thing is so good for her sore back.
Dear Janna up above, she forgot how stupidly hot her boyfriend is.
“Should we paint them yet?” He asks all of a sudden, snapping her thoughts from the gutter.
“Huh?”
“I thought you’d like it better if we decorated them when they're born and we know what they are,” he explains, wiping the sweat away with his forearm. “It’d make it more special. But then I thought it’d take the cribs too long to dry, and they’d have to sleep with us in the meantime, but our bed isn't as big—”
“I think they look good like this,” Jinx cuts him off from his rambling, inspecting Ekko's handiwork from her seat. “We could just spray paint some doodles, if anything. But a coat of varnish should do the trick.”
Ekko smiles up at her, bright and sunny in the middle of winter, and Jinx can't believe this is what her life has turned into.
Who would've thought the ruthless, crazy mercenary sitting next to the most dangerous chembaron would one day be discussing cribs and baby names? Not Jinx, that's for sure.
Of course, nothing ever lasts when it comes to her, definitely not peace.
It happens in the middle of the night, just a few weeks after entering her eighth month.
She's woken up by Ekko, who's already wide awake and panicking. When she comes to, the first thing she notices is the wetness pooling under her.
Fuck.
“Your water broke,” he repeats over and over again, voice frantic with concern. Jinx doesn't know what she's supposed to do other than send him off to fetch the doctor.
Logically, she knows how babies are born. She knows she's going to be in pain until she's dilated enough for them to come out of her vaginal canal, and all that. What she didn’t realize, up until now, is that it would be so fucking painful.
At some point or the other, her mind shuts down, trying to shield her from the sheer suffering birthing two children at once implies.
She knows it hurts, she's aware of the growing pain in her lower stomach, splitting her open in half. Is aware of the fact that there's people touching her, coaxing her into many positions that are supposed to make birthing easier, but the sun comes up and no baby is bundled up in her arms. It's all bullshit as far as she's concerned.
What Jinx isn't aware of, though, is how much time she's spent in pain. It could be minutes, hours, days— nothing registers in her brain, only loose words, more hands all over her body, and the burning wish for everything to stop.
Later, she’ll find out that her nail marks left scars all over Ekko’s arms, like the day she feared for the twins’ lives. As it happens, she's vaguely aware of holding onto something sturdy, burying her face in it and screaming out like a wild animal.
There's something moving down. Something pushing against her entrance, wanting to come out. The only word Jinx can understand is push.
Push. She bites down on something.
Push. Another guttural scream from the depths of her sternum.
Push. There's liquid sliding down her thighs.
I can see the head coming.
That voice is clearer, but not enough for her to snap out of her haze.
Something comes out of her body; she feels emptier the moment it slides down, brushing against her thighs.
For a moment, there's silence.
And then—
A piercing cry tears through the room. It pierces the bubble wrapped around Jinx’s head, slightly anchoring her in the moment.
She takes in her surroundings, realizing she's standing, her face pressed against Ekko’s chest. And there's blood. Lots and lots of blood.
“It’s a girl,” a voice declares, proud and happy.
Ekko looks at her with tears in his eyes, but Jinx can't figure out why he's crying.
“We have a daughter, Jinx,” he says.
Her mind is fuzzy, unable to react properly. There's another wave of pain that has her screaming, pushing her head against Ekko’s chest again.
“The other one is coming, keep pushing, dear,” the voice says, kneeling next to her.
So she does. Jinx pushes, pushes, and pushes.
And pushes.
And nothing happens.
It's been more than a while, and the second baby is not coming out.
“It’s probably not positioned right…” The voice—she’ll later realize it’s Doc Ray—says.
Jinx has no idea what that means.
“What do we do now?”
“I don't think she'll like this, but it’s the only way I can check.” Jinx blinks. Are they talking about her? “Hold her still, Ekko, this could be uncomfortable.”
She feels Ekko’s arms wrap around her torso, keeping her caged, and suddenly—
There's something twisting inside her, reaching for the twin still to be born and moving it around, re-organizing her organs and tearing an animalistic scream from her lungs.
“Stop! Stop! Make it stop! STOP! ” Jinx pleads, tears and snot going down her chin, digging her nails into Ekko’s flesh until she draws blood. She tries to break free, but Ekko keeps her locked in his embrace.
“The baby’s arm is in a weird position, if you keep pushing it could break. I’m so sorry, my dear.” There's pity in their tone, but Jinx still kicks and tries to break free, none of the words register in her mind.
When the thing rearranging her insides finally withdraws, she’s sure she’ll pass out.
It's fucking horrible. Everything about giving birth is a nightmare.
In that moment, she hates being a mother, hates that this is the way she has to become one—in complete and utter pain, being manhandled and prodded around like she's a fucking animal.
“It’s time, Jinx. I can see the head, one more time, push.”
A ragged, wet sob is her answer.
“Can’t… I… I don't want…”
“It’ll be over soon, just a little more,” Ekko coaxes her, massaging her back.
She hates how she loves him to the point of actually listening to him.
Her face goes red as she pushes, pushes, pushes.
There's more voices around her, morphing into one. It faintly reminds her of the scribbles.
And then, then, something slides out of her again.
The emptiness grows. Jinx pants, feeling like she just lost a part of herself.
They wait in silence for another cry.
It never comes.
The silence is what completely bursts her bubble, making her land in the present with a harsh thud.
Jinx looks behind her, sees Doc Ray rocking back and forth a thing covered in blood, with his face completely pale. Behind him, Vi is holding a bundle of blankets, worry painted all over her expression.
“What—what is going on?” She says, not recognizing her voice.
Doc Ray looks at her, desperately trying to find the words.
“It’s another girl,” he says. “She—she’s not breathing.”
A cold overtakes her body.
Her eyes rake over the little body he's holding; it's small, way too small. It's eyes are closed, and it's face looks a little purple.
Jinx’s knees buckle under her, making her drop to the cold floor, stained with her own blood. Exhaustion and grief wreck her weak frame.
Ekko tries to make her stand up, but she pushes him aside and crawls over to Doc Ray. He immediately comes closer, kneeling down so she can see the baby.
It's so small, with a little white fuzz on her head. A violent sob shakes her body.
“Give her to me,” she rasps out, taking her from his arms before he can even try to hold her out.
Jinx doesn't care that the baby is covered in blood and amniotic fluids, doesn't care that her shirt is Ekko’s and it's probably ruined now. She cradles her in her arms, letting her rest her head against her chest, patting her in the back.
“I’m so sorry,” she cries, rubbing circles with her index finger on her back. “I killed you, this is all my fault. I'm so sorry.”
She pats her back with a touch more of strength, rocking back and forth, and Jinx hears a wet plop.
A cry splits the silence, loud and vigorous, and Jinx feels her soul coming back to her body.
“She’s alive,” Ekko sobs, falling to his knees next to her. He takes her face between her hands, kisses her like she's his oxygen. “We have girls, Jinx.”
“Girls,” she repeats, not believing it just yet.
Vi kneels next to them, silently handing the other bundle to them. Jinx peeks over the blankets, more white hair.
“I need to clean her up, may I?” Vi asks, gentle, as she points to the baby Jinx is still holding.
Part of her doesn't want to give her baby to her, fearing what might happen if she lets go, but relents in the end.
She's exhausted, her legs are coated in blood, sweat sticks to every inch of her body, and her breasts are leaking milk through the fabric of her shirt.
“Ekko,” she says, body slumping against his. “I want to sleep.”
He kisses her sweaty forehead with adoration, softly rocking the bundle in his arms.
“Rest now, beautiful, I'll take care of everything.”
Oh, how she loves him.
The twins get Ekko’s white hair and black skin, and genetics are kind enough to, at least, give them Jinx’s eyes.
They become the apple of Ekko’s eyes; he loves Jinx, but the love he has for his daughters are something he can't quite put into words.
Winona and Livia don’t spend a second alone on their first days of life; if Jinx isn't breastfeeding them, Ekko is wearing them on slings and bringing them along to the things he has to do around the base. Vi often steals them so they can catch a break, as well as the other Firelights, mostly Scar and Aya. By their first month of life, the twins have been held by mostly everyone at the base.
He sits down with Jinx one night to have dinner, after a long, exhausting day where he didn’t get to help her out that much.
Caitlyn came hearing news; Sevika mentioned something about looking for the daughter of his old boss, wanting to talk to her before finally signing off on an interim treaty. It was out of the blue, and Caitlyn knew she had to tell Ekko right away.
Ekko starts trying to breach the topic, but Jinx isn’t answering. Her gaze is lost in the stew, stirring it without much appetite. The twins are cooing in their cribs not far away.
“Jinx? Something the matter?” He asks, squeezing her free hand.
She nearly jumps out her skin, eyes alert even after she realizes it's him.
“I’m just tired.” She sighs, letting the fork fall and rubbing her hand all over her face. “They were a nightmare to deal with today.” Her tone is sour, resentful. It spikes Ekko’s worry.
He drapes a hand over hers, making her look at him. “Nobody said this would be easy, bad days can happen.”
Ekko knows her. Knows that by the way with which she chews her lips, drops her gaze back to her plate, and clenches her jaw there's something she's not telling him.
“I suppose so,” she says, trying to change the subject afterwards to Vi finally biting the proverbial bullet and asking Aya out on a date.
The topic dies there, and Ekko forgets to bring up the Sevika thing.
Months pass.
The twins grow with each day, learning more sounds, hitting new milestones they previously thought impossible.
Livia is the one that surprised them the most; she was weak from birth, small in size compared to Winona. Jinx kept her under her watch all the time to the point it became an obsession; she was convinced that her daughter could die at any moment.
Guilt ate her from the inside.
If you had eaten properly, if you didn't try to kill them so vehemently when they were still in your womb, she'd be a healthy baby today, the scribbles often say, no longer Mylo nor Claggor; now, they take the shape of everything she's afraid of, everything she doesn't tell Ekko for fear of him judging her.
Because she doesn't know if she loves them. Isn't sure if the fondness in her chest is comparable to the loud, bright love Ekko has for them.
What kind of mother doesn't love her children? How can she be such a monster? It keeps her up at night, making her wish she never became a mother; if she's already falling short at such a thing, how can she face what comes next?
Jinx stirs in the night, restless, burdened by the weight of her shortcomings.
Like the birth, it happens in the middle of the night.
She's awake. She doesn't sleep much, not really; Ekko tells her she should try to fix that, but she has to be up every four hours to breastfeed each of them, making them burp and change them if they have any accidents. Ekko helps, of course he does, but his body isn't the one they're dependent on.
A soft cry startles her. It’s not the kind of cry that threatens to bounce on the walls of the room to the point she feels like crying too—it’s softer, non-urgent.
Jinx shifts on the bed, pushing herself up with her elbows. Ekko is still fast asleep next to her.
Something stirs in the pit of her stomach, an omen that something bad is about to happen.
Almost like in the middle of a haze, she sits on the bed with trembling limbs, heart beating wildly in her ears.
The cribs are not far from their bed; she can see the inside from where she is. Well, theoretically—the darkness doesn't let her make out much.
There's another cry, but this time, a voice brushes against her ears, chilling her to the bone.
Your daughter is dead, it says, low and cruel. She died in your womb, this is nothing but an impostor.
Jinx shoots up to her feet, taking hurried steps with her whole body trembling. No! No! She's not! I heard her cry! She's alive! She thinks, biting down on her lips to keep herself from waking up Ekko.
The cribs are silent. Both of their cribs are covered in paint doodles they made just a few weeks ago, drawing things like baby animals and flowers. On opposing sides, Ekko carved the name of each twin.
Jinx lets the pads of her fingers graze along the edge where she knows the names are carved. She can make out Winnie’s name without problem, then she continues with Livia’s crib. She squints her eyes as she leans down, trying to make out the drawings she did for her daughters.
Reality distorts all around her the moment she realizes unknown runes have been carved on top of the animal drawings on Livia’s cradle.
She clasps a hand over her mouth, choking back a scream.
A piercing cry cuts through the silence of the night, slamming Jinx back into a nightmare she thought she forgot long ago.
She grips the edge of Livia's cradle; an unknown baby stares back at her with eyes so similar to those on her real daughter, but so wrong at the same time.
Jinx starts crying before she realizes.
“No, no, no, I thought she was safe!” She sobs, tripping with her own feet as she staggers backwards.
Her mess wakes Ekko up; he's immediately by her side, asking what's wrong, what happened—Jinx can barely speak through the hiccups.
“It’s not—it’s not Livvie, she's dead! I don't—that baby isn't mine! I would be able to love her if she were!” Jinx sobs inconsolably, hiding from Ekko’s judgy gaze.
“Jinx, what are you talking about? That is Livvie. Babe, please, just—just breathe. Okay? Breathe, we will figure this out.” He tries to calm her down, but the babies have started crying in their cradles, and the cry of the unknown baby stirs something within Jinx, something bitter.
“No she's not ! I killed her! I killed her while I was pregnant, this is an impostor!” She hurls a finger towards the cradle, wanting to take Winnie in her arms to protect her from the intruder stealing her milk and mama’s attention.
Before the situation can escalate further, Ekko runs to turn the light on, and it's as if a veil lifts from her eyes.
The runes are gone from the cradle. Jinx feels the air abandoning her lungs.
“There were—I thought I saw—” Holding her breath, she approaches the cradle, inspecting the insides. Livia is crying her lungs out.
Guilt wraps its ugly hand around her throat, squeezing it until she can't breathe.
She just said the most vile things about her baby, didn't recognize her just because it was dark.
What kind of monster are you? Don't you feel ashamed?
“I’m sorry,” she sobs, taking Livia from the crib and cradling her against her chest. “I’m so sorry, baby, I don't—I thought—”
Ekko places a hand to the curve of her back, steeling her. Says nothing when he picks up Winona from her cradle, holding her against his chest.
When the twins quiet down, an uncomfortable silence engulfs them.
She’s said too much, all the wrong things.
This is it. He’ll leave you forever now that he knows you're a danger to the kids.
Jinx sobs quietly, holding Livia a little tighter, unwilling to face Ekko’s heavy gaze.
When he speaks, she's expecting an eviction notice—not understanding.
“I think there's too much on your plate,” he says, voice wobbling slightly. “I think—I know I haven’t been fair with you, and in turn you haven't been honest with me.”
Jinx’s mouth goes dry.
Ekko has this ability to make her talk, to coax her to be calm when she's falling apart, succumbing to the dark corners in her mind. This time is no exception.
They set down the twins in their respective cradles and Ekko makes tea, both knowing they won’t get any sleep unless they talk about what they’re keeping inside.
Jinx talks.
Talks long and hard about the guilt occupying her body like a parasite that drains her from the joy that motherhood is supposed to be, talks about the insecurities and fears she’s kept behind a locked door—never facing Ekko, fearing what she might find in his expression.
When her voice becomes rough with pain, Ekko interrupts her.
“I would never judge you for being human,” he says, softly, calmly. She reluctantly meets his gaze, and finds a protective fierceness to them that makes her insides twist. (You don’t deserve him) “What you’re feeling, worrying about not being able to love them—love looks very different from person to person. You shouldn’t compare my way of loving them to yours. The fact you care so much about them, about little Livvie, is already a sign that you love them,” Ekko says, rubbing soothing circles on her wrists.
It’s hard to not let the guilt crash over her all over again, because what has she ever done for Ekko but give him problems?
“I just want to do things right,” she confesses, defeated.
“You will, I’m sure of it, and I’ll be right behind you the whole time.” Ekko smiles at her, tired from the lack of sleep and tornado of emotions, but the sparkle in his eyes is no different from other times.
Jinx feels her heart swell with how much she loves him.
Unable to properly express her feelings, she cradles his face between her hands and kisses him slowly, hoping the softness of her lips against his can say everything she wishes.
After their talk, things change—for the better.
Ekko pays special attention to Jinx, noticing the subtlest of changes in her expression. He makes it a point to check in with her, see where she is and meet her there on the days where clouds overtake her vision.
They have a lot of help from Vi and Aya nowadays—they take turns having the twins sleep over at their rooms so Jinx can sleep more than four hours, keep her company during the day when Ekko is too busy to help her out, and even do some of the chores around the house to ease Jinx’s burden.
It’s still so weird that his ex-girlfriend is now dating his sister-in-law, but Aya’s the happiest he’s ever seen her be, and Vi positively glows every time she talks about Aya or is around her, so it’s not like he’s mad.
They deserve to be happy, honestly. He’s glad they’re part of his family.
Jinx still hasn’t gone back to fabricating weapons—Ekko doesn’t think she wants to, if he were to be honest, but that’s something they haven’t talked about. Not yet, at least.
There’s too much going on, with the peace treaty stagnant, the undercity trying to survive, and their new missions that consist of helping rebuild homes and sabotaging the shimmer trade by sabotaging the factories.
It’s still a large problem in the undercity, after so many people were fatally wounded. But Sevika seems to have more brains than Silco; rumour has it that the new batches are watered down, a fragment of what shimmer once was. Not as addicting, still sort of healing.
Ekko doesn’t like Sevika, but if the woman makes the necessary steps towards solving the addiction problems that run rampant in the undercity, well, it’s not like he’ll complain.
Life goes on. Soon, the twins approach the seven month mark, and he can’t believe how everything’s changed.
He opens the door of their home, comes to find her in the rocking chair he built for her, breastfeeding Winona while Livia rests in the sofa not far away from her. Jinx smiles up at him, tired but calm, content.
Ekko swears he could cry from joy.
“Welcome home, babe,” she says in a whisper, puckering up her lips so he can kiss her. He gives her a long, meaningful kiss. “We missed you,” Jinx breathes against his lips.
“You have no idea how much I missed you, ” he replies, even though he hasn’t been gone for more than two hours.
Ekko takes Livia in his arms, and sits down to talk with his girlfriend.
He has a conversation pending with Jinx about Sevika actively searching for her; in the past week, there’s been men that work for her looking for Jinx all over the undercity. She’s allowed to go out now that they trust her, but she hasn’t made use of that privilege for quite a while now.
When Caitlyn came by just some days ago, she brought big news along with her. Ekko knows he can’t keep postponing it any longer.
“Remember how Sevika is leading the negotiations with Piltover?” Ekko says, suddenly veering the topic at hand. Jinx freezes, with her breast still out, leaking milk. Winona is fast asleep, milk-drunk.
“Yeah, why?” She questions, tense. Ekko sucks in a sharp breath.
“Caitlyn came by the other day, she had news that might concern us,” he starts saying, bouncing his knee up and down. Jinx urges him to go on. “There’—there’s been a break in the negotiations. Aside from independence, Sevika is demanding for all the scientific machines and tools Piltover made with the minerals from the Zaunite mines to be brought here. She wants to start a research lab in the undercity.”
That knocks the air clean out of her lungs. “What? Are you serious?”
“Deadly. Piltover wants to oversee the lab to make sure we don’t make any dangerous weapons, but she wants to appoint someone from Zaun.” Ekko steels himself, breathing in deeply before dropping the proverbial bomb. “Jinx, she mentioned you during the negotiations. She’s looking for you to talk about the possibility of running the lab.”
Jinx’s eyes fly towards the messy desk where she keeps her blueprints sprawled out, with papers full of calculations hastily taped on the walls.
Somewhere in the mess, lays a blueprint for a water purifier he saw her sketch long ago.
She’s thinking the same thing he’s thinking.
It’s not a matter of if she can lead a lab, it’s a matter of if she wants to lead a lab.
A heavy silence settles between them. Ekko knows it’s a lot, but it’s a matter of time before Sevika starts roaming the lanes herself, tracking her down.
“I’ll have to consult with the bosses,” she says, breaking the silence as she points with her chin to the babies fast asleep. “They get fussy if I don’t feed them on the dot.”
They share a laugh, and Ekko doesn’t hide the way he looks at her as she puts her breast away.
“Just—maybe think about it? I don’t trust her either, but if she’s saying those things in a diplomatic meeting… Maybe there’s some truth to it.”
“Yeah, but why would she? It makes no sense.”
Ekko throws her an incredulous look.
“Because you’re the best inventor Zaun has seen,” he replies, nothing but honesty as he speaks. “You have a sharp mind for engineering, aside from weapons. She’s right to want you.”
For the first time in her life, Jinx doesn’t try to negate what he just said, just smiles and throws him a kiss.
“Well, aren’t you sweet? C’mon, lover boy, help me put them in their cradles so we can have dinner,” she says, and she doesn’t have to tell him twice.
Dinner gets a little carried away, with Ekko definitely not thinking about the vegetables steaming for too long as he fondles Jinx’s breast over a make out session probably as steamy as the water boiling right next to them.
He could get used to this for the rest of his life.
Jinx is mulling over Ekko’s words regarding Sevika over a cup of tea when it happens.
The twins have become talkative at this stage in their development, producing the cutest little sounds that have Jinx cooing like an idiot. She’s slowly warming up to them, accepting her role as their mom with more open arms.
Livia is especially talkative; Jinx is pretty sure she takes after her mama in that sense.
The twins are sprawled on their tummies over the living room rug, under Jinx’s watchful gaze. She’s sipping on her drink, listening as they have a conversation in baby language, when suddenly—
“Maaaaama!”
Jinx chokes on her tea.
She opens her eyes like plates, eyebrows up to her forehead. Livia is looking at her, babbling incoherencies.
“Did you say what I think you just said, Livvie?” She asks, knowing damn well the baby can’t answer her.
Livia just laughs with that high-pitched laugh babies have, and—
“Maaaa! Maaamaa!”
Jinx feels her heart leap out of her chest, overwhelmed with the surge of affection she feels for her daughter.
She immediately kneels down to scoop her up, crying ugly tears of happiness.
“You said mama! You love me!” She sobs, holding her against her chest. Livia starts nibbling on the fabric of her shirt almost immediately.
Ekko arrives just at the right moment, though he thinks something bad happened when he sees her crying. Jinx just shakes her head, smiling through the tears.
“She said mama, I heard her loud and clear,” she tells him, and the grin that breaks in Ekko’s face is priceless.
Nothing else matters in that moment. Not Sevika’s men looking for her, or the fact that the independence talks have been stagnant for months, not even that Jinx still worries herself sick wondering if her children will grow up in the safe environment she wishes for them.
No, in that moment, all she cares about is grasping her happiness with both hands, not letting it get away from her, forcing it to make a nest in her ribcage. She knows she’s done bad things, that a life in bliss like this shouldn’t be possible for someone like her, but the joy she feels makes her selfish, egotistical.
She deserves this life. She bled for it, groveled in dirt and defied all the odds. She deserves to hear her daughters say mama, deserves the man kissing her like she’s the only woman he’ll ever love—all of it.